


On Your Knees

by magenta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magenta/pseuds/magenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel experiences strange feelings when he sees Dean on his knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Your Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "worship" square on my kink bingo card. My first time writing Supernatural, so I hope people like it!
> 
> Betaed by the lovely janescott <3
> 
> Also, if you like this story, come bid on me in the AO3 Fic Auction and I'll write something for you! http://ao3auction.tumblr.com/magenta

Castiel experiences a strange feeling the first time he sees Dean on his knees before him. At first, he assumes it’s simply because he has never had another man before him doing what Dean is doing with his mouth, and then considers that perhaps the feelings are something that was left behind in his vessel. He doesn’t have much time to think about it, not now, because Dean does something with his tongue that is unnatural in how it makes Cas shout and writhe, and Cas finds he doesn’t care what the feelings mean as long as Dean does whatever that was again. And then again.

The second time it happens, Cas is even more confused, as neither of them are naked, and Dean is simply kneeling to tie his shoes in some anonymous hotel room, but something in Cas’ chest feels hot and tight. That heat spirals outward when Dean looks up at him, his face wide and open and Castiel felt a surge of something he can’t name. It feels like want, but not like the itchy want he felt when Dean’s hands slid over his thighs, or like the gnawing want the first time he felt hunger, it feels raw and hot and all he wants is Dean on his knees.

“Dean.” Cas can hear it in his own voice, impossibly rougher, needier.

“Cas, you alright?” Dean moves to get up, and Cas holds out his hand, his blood pumping harder when Dean stops instantly, staying where he is.

“Yes. Good.” Cas feels something growing in him like a gathering storm, something dark and hungry, and it swells when he sees understanding pass over Dean’s face. For a moment, there’s a twinkle in his eyes and a smirk on his lips and then it fades, his face becoming passive and smooth, his eyes wide.

“You want me on my knees, huh? Worship you like you deserve?” Dean’s voice is soft, which makes his words hit that much harder. _Worship,_ Castiel thinks. Yes. That’s it. That’s what makes the heat grow in his belly; worship, not from anyone, but from Dean. This strong man who puts his faith in nothing more than himself, worshipping Castiel.

Cas tries to speak, suddenly understanding what it means to have a lump in one’s throat and nods instead, reaching a hand out to beckon Dean closer. Dean shifts forward on his knees, resting his hands on his thighs and looking up at Cas through his lashes, tongue darting out to wet his full lips. Cas reaches out to run his fingers through Dean’s hair, sighing when Dean leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut a little. he drops his hand to run his thumb over Dean’s lips, pushing in easily, Dean’s tongue swirling over the digit like a promise.

He pulls his thumb from Dean’s mouth with a pop, a soft groan falling from his lips when Dean follows him, mouth open and wanting. Everything about this is outside of Castiel’s realm of experience, and he knows what he wants, but isn’t sure how to ask for it. Seeing people on their knees before him isn’t new, it’s happened more times than he can count, but seeing Dean on his knees, quiet and worshipful and just _waiting_ , all of that is beyond Cas and he doesn’t know how to take the next step, to take what it is he wants.

Thankfully, Dean understands him more than Castiel would have thought possible, can read into his every facial expression and movement, and he takes the step Cas doesn’t know how to. Dean reaches forward, his hands pausing just in front of Cas’ thighs, his voice soft and deferential. “May I touch you, Castiel?”

Cas nearly groans at the softness in Dean’s voice, at the mere idea of Dean asking permission, which is so far from reality. He nods, clearing his throat and answering in a rough, broken “yes.”

Dean’s hands are gentle, more gentle than Cas thought they could be as he caresses Cas’ thighs through the worn fabric of his pants, up to work at the smooth leather of his belt. He pauses when he has the belt undone, his fingers poised at the zipper of Cas’ pants, looking up with a question on his face. Again, Cas nods, moving one hand to let it rest on Dean’s shoulder, fingers digging in when he feels Dean slowly slide his pants and underwear down over his thighs.

Cas feels Dean’s warm breath against the skin of his cock, and this at least is something that’s rapidly becoming familiar. He grips harder into Dean’s shoulder as Dean moves closer, tensing in expectation of the warm slide of Dean’s mouth, but it doesn’t come. Cas looks down to see Dean’s eyes closed reverently as his cheek rubs over the sensitive flesh of Cas’ hard cock, the scrape of his stubble making Cas throw his head back and moan. Dean moves slowly at first, tracing his fingers lightly over Cas’ thighs and up to his cock, teasing through the wetness already gathering at the tip. Heat spreads through Cas’ belly, and by the time Dean finally closes his mouth over Cas’ cock, he feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, and nothing more than a gentle breeze will send him toppling over the edge. He feels something bubbling in his chest, words racing towards the tip of his tongue and he has no idea if he should say them, but then Dean presses his tongue just right, and Cas is no longer in control.

He wraps a hand around Dean’s cheek and strokes his fingers around the stretch of Dean’s lips, feeling where his cock is sliding in and out, slick and hot. He opens his mouth on a groan and speaks, quiet at first, but louder as he grows more sure. “Dean, you are so perfect like this, on your knees for me.” He hears Dean let out a groan muffled by his cock, and takes it as the good sign it is, letting his mouth get ahead of his brain. “It seems that you like kneeling for me, kneeling before your God.”

Apparently, Dean likes the sound of that as much as Cas, because he digs his fingers hard into Cas’ thighs and shoves his mouth down onto Cas’ cock, taking him impossibly deeper. Cas gasps breathlessly and drops both hands to Dean’s shoulders and hangs on, his knees suddenly feeling inadequate to the task of keeping him upright. He starts to feel something uncoil deep inside of him, Dean’s tongue and lips working over him, and he can feel himself starting to tip over that edge. Something takes him over, an idea so sharp and brilliant he can’t ignore it even though he couldn’t tell anyone where it had come from.

Cas grips his fingers as well as he can into the longer hair on the top of Dean’s head and pulls him back, both of them groaning at the loss of contact. His hand shaking, Cas wraps it around his cock and strokes hard and fast, Dean’s saliva slicking the way. It doesn’t take long for Dean to catch on, and he looks up at Cas with those eyes, bright and open, his lips parted and wet and Cas groans again, the noise sounding animal even to his own ears.

“Please, Castiel, give it to me.” Dean’s voice is as needy as Cas has ever heard, wanton and perfect. “I want to feel it on my face, I need it Castiel, please.” Cas’ hand moves faster over his own flesh, and he forces his eyes open, trains them on Dean’s face just in time. He comes hard, streaking Dean’s face with white, dripping down his cheeks, some even clinging impossibly to those eyelashes. Dean speaks one last time, his voice soft as he reaches up to swipe his fingers through the mess on his face, sucking those fingers into his mouth and sighing as he licks them clean. “Thank you, Castiel.”

Cas groans and stumbles backwards until he can collapse on the bed, only opening his eyes when he feels the bed dip next to time, He opens his eyes to see Dean leaning over him, grinning like the cat that got the cream even though his face is still filthy. “Well, _Castiel_ , I think we just found your first kink! Congrats, man!” Dean punches him on the shoulder, and leans down to kiss him, and Cas tastes himself in Dean’s mouth and makes a slightly pained noise, one that Dean would later tell him was called a whimper.

“I am sorry, Dean, that I made...a mess.” Cas feels blood rush to his face, and he rubs a hand over it ineffectually.

Dean is still looking down at him with that grin on his face, and he shrugs. “Don’t worry about it, I made a mess of my own.” He gestures to the front of his jeans, where an obvious stain is spreading darkly across the front. “Turns out, we found a new kink for me too. Anyways, I’m going to go get cleaned up, Sammy’ll be banging down our door any minute and I’d rather not have to explain this before breakfast.”

He rolls off the bed, grimacing a little and tugging at the front of his pants as he heads for the bathroom, pausing as he reaches the door as if something had just occurred to him. “Oh, and the whole ‘Please, Castiel’ thing, don’t expect it to happen outside of the bedroom.” Dean actually shakes his finger at Cas, as if he was scolding him, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays his mock-seriousness.

Cas’ lips curved up into a gentle smile, and he brings his hand to his chest sincerely. “I would never expect that of you, Dean.” He watches as the door closes behind Dean, and tucks himself back into his pants, and wonders idly what Dean meant by “kink”. He isn’t sure, but he has suspicions that he will enjoy that particular learning process.


End file.
